


Customer Service Voice

by Itgoeson



Series: I Think You're My Best Friend [6]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Based on a Tumblr Post, Customer Service & Tech Support, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 09:03:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15167267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itgoeson/pseuds/Itgoeson
Summary: Suga has a no good, very bad, tiring day and Daichi is there to love and make fun of him.





	Customer Service Voice

**Author's Note:**

> It won't let me hyperlink but this is based on this post: http://fifty-shadesofgay.tumblr.com/post/174225878637/dirty-talk-but-you-both-use-your-customer-service which is equal parts excellent and awful. Here you go friendos.

Whoever invented nine-hour shifts was a bitch, and whoever convinced Suga that he needed a job during college was also a bitch. Or something else also bad. He’s got the money to eat, sure, but the time? When does he have the time to make food?

He considers texting Daichi to see if he wants him to pick up dinner somewhere on the way home, but thinks  _ screw it _ , because the day takes so long and there’s nothing on the way home. He’d have to take the train to a different stop. He doesn’t know the routes when he’s this tired. He’d have to call Oikawa,  _ again _ , to ask for directions — not that he should really trust him because, the last time he’d asked, Oikawa had given him directions using landmarks and sex shops as navigation tools and he’d almost murdered him over their weekly brunch in retaliation.

The tunnel walls blur past him. Today would be less shitty if it hadn’t started with a lab at 8am and ended with a lady insisting that her coupon still worked and could she talk to his manager, please, now? It would also be less shitty if he’d remembered to take a lunch with him to work so he could eat something other than a granola bar all day. He thinks longingly of the Thai place just off of campus, but out of the way from the line between his work and apartment.

Suga doesn’t text Daichi, and he manages to get off the train at the right stop, and he’s calling it a win for the day. 

Their apartment is on the second floor — perfectly sandwiched to get noise complaints from their downstairs neighbors and to complain about their upstairs ones — but at least it’s a short climb until he’s flipping the lock behind him and toeing out of his shoes, bag dropping with a sad  _ thlunk  _ beside them. 

Whoever thought to freeze half of the lasagna he’d made last week instead of letting it go bad in their fridge is a saint. It might have been Daichi. That would make sense. 

He’s vacantly staring at the microwave, lasagna-block spinning round and round and round, thinking of nice things to say to Daichi because he’d frozen some leftovers, when he hears the door shut. He blinks once, then a few more times when he realizes his eyes are dry and he’s just been staring at the microwave light for a while now. 

“I’m home,” Daichi, his hero, freezer of food and giver of sustenance, calls, redundantly, because he can see Suga after he takes a step forward, out of the almost-entryway and into their kitchen/living room/whatever else it needed to be that day. 

“Welcome back,” he says back, an octave too high and too tired to care. 

“Making food?” Daichi asks, coming up behind him to wrap his arms around Suga and nose at his neck. He hasn’t showered after his game and — okay, it’s hot, that’s fine, but Suga needs food more than dick right now. He stares at the microwave. Daichi runs his fingertips absentmindedly over Suga’s stomach, his hip bone. He slips a hand just barely under his shirt to scrape his nails lightly along the same lines he’d just stroked.

“And how was your day today?”

Daichi laughs. “Good, the game went to four sets, but it was pretty easy all told.”

He noses at Suga’s neck again as the microwave beeps that it’s done. “Your food is ready,” he says when Suga still doesn’t move. Bites softly at his neck as Suga just breathes and holds Daichi’s arms where they’re at, wrapped over his stomach, still moving his fingers softly in small strokes. 

“Yeah.”

Daichi nibbles on his earlobe, licks softly up the shell of his ear. “Unless you want to wait for it to cool down?”

Suga breathes out in a soft sigh. “Would you like that?” he asks. It sounds high-pitched again to his own ears, a little rounded on the vowels, but whatever. 

“Suga…” 

“We can do that for you, absolutely.”

Daichi smothers his laugh into Suga’s shoulder. “Sug, baby, I can’t.”

That snaps him out of staring at the microwave again. He frowns. “What?”

“Don’t… don’t use your customer service voice to try to flirt with me. I can’t handle that.”

“Oh,” Suga says, humming. “It wasn’t really on purpose—”

“Oh thank god,” Daichi interrupts, slumping happily against Suga’s back.

Suga doesn’t really react. He’s still looking at his beautiful, beautiful lasagna. It’s just taking up the whole plate. It’s enough to send him into a food coma. He’s going to nap so hard after he’s done, before he has to start on tomorrow’s homework. “Daichi, I want to eat so much pasta right now.”

Daichi laughs so hard slips down to the floor, taking Suga with him. It ends up with Suga sprawled over a giggling Daichi, but that’s okay, too. Daichi’s joints creak and he smells and this is better than anything he’d imagined having when they were in high school and desperate to figure things out; when they lived in the dorms and were trying to get their lives together but too tired to make a move; when they were moving in and starting out with Suga’s new job and Daichi’s playing and then coaching in the off-season and their schedules never matched up and they spent time together by studying in the same room. He peppers Suga’s face with kisses between his laughs, and Suga gives in and smiles dopily up at him and lets him keep kissing his exhausted but very adorable face.

It takes a couple tries before Daichi can speak, and even when he does, he’s out of breath. “Right, okay. Let’s get you onto the couch, then. I can shower while you eat.”

Suga squints at him distrustfully. “You can have a few bites. But only because you froze leftovers and I’m dying and you’ve saved my life.”

Daichi snorts. “Babe… you’re the one who put it in the freezer. You said your week was going to be awful and we should plan ahead.”

  
  



End file.
